


5 Annoying Things About Being Married To Victor

by heartsdesire456



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Fluffy Ending, Humor, M/M, Married Characters, Post-Canon, minor feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:25:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: +1 thing that never gets old, no matter how much annoying stuff Yuuri has to put up with.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought of all the stuff Yuuri probably has to put up with from Victor, but he doesn't really mind, because it's worth it anyways. All married couples have things about each other that drive them CRAZY, and even Victor can't be the perfect spouse.
> 
>  **EDIT:** I forgot to say that the really poorly done (probably) phonetic Japanese has hover-text translations! Sorry! I forgot to add that note.

Being married to Victor was more than a dream come true, for Yuuri. It was a dream he never even bothered with come true. Before he got to know him, Victor was his childhood hero, his first crush, his adulthood idol, everything that was untouchable. Even when he got to know him, Victor still seemed so far out of Yuuri’s league, no matter how attached to him Victor seemed to be. Even when they got together, it seemed like any moment he was going to wake up from this dream where the man who had been his hero was now a regular human who loved him.

Every day he spent with Victor, living in St. Petersburg in Victor’s flat, sharing a home that was just for them, was like a fairytale that Yuuri was the princess of. The handsome prince had kissed him and married him and now they were going to live happily ever after with their skating and their dog and their happy little life together.

However, when Yuuri had to actually think about it, their life was far from a fairytale, because Yuuri had never come across a fairytale ending where the princess so often felt like strangling the prince until he stopped being so damn annoying.

 

1\. 

Looking at the computer screen, Yuuri blinked a few times before realizing that, no, he wasn’t blind, he really couldn’t read _anything_ on the screen. “Victor!” Yuuri had never really thought before they lived together, since they both were fluent in English, that it would become such a big issue that they had different mother languages.

However, it became apparent early on that they would have to agree on resetting the Latin text settings on everything electronic they shared after they used it with their language. Yuuri was always careful to set it back if he had to email someone back home, because he knew that, though Victor’s spoken Japanese actually was pretty conversational, he couldn’t read it at all.

Much like how Yuuri couldn’t read Cyrillic one bit.

“Yes, Yuuri?” Victor called back from the living room.

Yuuri steepled his hands together, closing his eyes as he took a calming breath. This was only about the fifteenth time this had happened in the two months they had been living in Russia. “Could you come here, Vicchan,” he called in a calm tone.

He heard Victor’s feet on the wooden floors as he approached. Yuuri kept his eyes on the screen as Victor padded up behind him and then stopped. “Ah,” Victor said and Yuuri moved his hands from in front of his lips. 

“Victor.” He opened his eyes, turning to look up at Victor. “ Anata wa kore o setsumei suru ki ni narimasu ka?”

Victor frowned. “What?”

“ Ā? Anata wa rikaidekinai?” Yuuri asked innocently, though his eyes said something very different.

Victor pouted. “Well I understood _that_.”

Yuuri finally glared. “Watashi wa kore ni tsukarete iru!”

“Yuuri-“

Yuuri swapped back to English. “Victor, this is ridiculous!” He pointed at the screen. “I can’t even put it back, and all I have asked of you is to put it back when you finish!”

“It was really important! I was doing something legal-“

“And I understand you need to!” Yuuri interrupted. “Victor, this has happened so many times and I’ve been living here for months!” He stood up and stomped out of the way. “Put it back so I can finally check my email,” he demanded, crossing his arms as he looked at Victor with a tight frown.

At least Victor did look apologetic. Half the time they had an argument he just tried to brush things off, and though this wasn’t an argument, Yuuri was really mad. It frustrated him to no end that Victor was unable to do something as simple as remember to just change the settings back. “I’m sorry I’m such a bad husband,” Victor muttered as he changed it back, and Yuuri deflated some.

“You’re not a bad husband,” he admitted reluctantly, sighing. “You just have to remember that I’m just as lost as you were when you first came to Japan. You still can’t read my language after almost a year, so until I have had time to learn a new writing system I haven’t seen all over the world since I was a little boy, please just remember that,” he said, putting a hand on Victor’s shoulder.

Victor smiled, the glow of the screen highlighting the shift in his angular features. “You’re smarter than me, though, so you should learn way faster.” He looked straight up at Yuuri as he stood behind him. “You made it to the grand prix finals while _going to university_ ,” he stressed. “I’ve never known a figure skater to go to university. Yura didn’t even finish secondary school.”

Yuuri frowned. “Really?”

Victor nodded with a warm look. “You’re the smartest person I know, so you’ll learn any language way faster than I would.”

“Hopefully,” Yuuri muttered, looking at the screen as Victor went back to changing the settings. Once he finished, Yuuri had a thought. “What were you doing that’s legal anyways?”

Victor looked up at him again. “Checking with my lawyer that everything had been changed to my married name.” Yuuri blinked and then groaned, sliding his arms around Victor’s shoulders as he leaned against his back. “Yuuri?”

“Now I feel like the bad husband,” he muttered against Victor’s shoulder. He really did feel shitty about getting mad at Victor when Victor had forgotten because of _that_. Yuuri hadn’t bothered legally changing his name to his married name, since it wasn’t that simple for a man to hyphenate his last name legally at home, and yet Victor insisted he do his legally and not just use their hyphenated name the way Yuuri was. 

Victor chuckled, turning to kiss his cheek. “No, you’re right to be mad, _Zolotse_ ,” he said firmly. “I keep forgetting, and I need to stop that. I promise to try harder, though,” he said, and Yuuri gave him a small pout.

“Even when I’m mad, you know I love you, right?” he asked, and Victor nodded, squeezing the arm that was wrapped across his chest. Yuuri gave a sweet grin. “Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov.”

Victor smiled brightly and wiggled excitedly in the chair. “I’ll try to remember my promise to change the language settings back really hard, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov,” he replied and Yuuri rolled his eyes and kissed him.

“Mmmm, just really try change it back in the future, okay?” he reminded him and Victor nodded, brushing Yuuri’s bangs out of his eyes.

“I really promise.”

2\. 

It was no shock to anybody that Victor was a forgetful man. Yuuri knew from the start that Victor was forgetful, and he tried to not get angry at him for doing something that he couldn’t help. It was in his nature. The same way Yuuri was clumsy and awkward, Victor was forgetful, and it wasn’t his fault.

Sometimes, though, Yuuri really wanted to ask Yakov how many times Victor had fallen on his head in Novices.

Like today, when Yuuri was finishing his warmup off the ice and Victor arrived just in time, with a surprise: Yuuri’s favorite coffee from his favorite café in their neighborhood. “Awww, Vitya, that’s so sweet,” Mila commented from where she was cooling down after her hour of practice she had booked just before Yuuri’s hour of morning practice. 

Yuuri smiled up at him from where he lay over his legs while Yurio half-assed pushing him to help him stretch. “Thank you, Vicchan,” he said, and then, as Victor offered him his hand not holding the tray of his and Yuuri’s drinks, he took it, shrugging Yurio off as he let Victor pull him to his feet. He giggled when Victor tugged him right into his side, kissing him sweetly.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said with a fond smile.

Yuuri took his coffee from the tray and took a sip and hummed happily. “Yummy. And no sugar, so it won’t make me fat,” he teased. He kissed Victor’s cheek again before pulling away to go sit on the bench and drink his coffee while he waited for the ice to be ready for him. He looked up at Victor. “Want to come help me get my skates on while I drink this?”

Victor looked around. “Where are your skates?” he asked, and Yuuri froze.

Apparently that was another surprise: Victor forgot his _fucking skates_.

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asked slowly, hoping he was wrong. “You said you would bring them with you when I left for my run.”

Victor stilled, an uncomfortable look coming over his face. “Ah. I did do that, didn’t I?” Yuuri stared at him for a moment, mouth slack, and Victor shrugged. “Whoops, I guess I forgot.” He smiled innocently and Yuuri’s shock began to fade as his anger mounted.

“ _Victor_ ,” he gritted out, and Victor fixed a big smile on his face.

“At least I brought you coffee?” he tried, but Yuuri fisted his hands on his thighs where he sat, the coffee forgotten on the bench beside him.

Yurio looked over at them from where he was helping Mila now. “What’s the hold up? The ice is ready,” he said, pointing out onto the ice that was freshly resurfaced by the Zamboni that was now parked back in its space and the boards replaced.

Yuuri glared up at Victor, who still had that stupid ‘forgive me, I’m Victor Nikiforov!’ smile on his face. “It’s fifteen minutes to our home, Victor, that means another fifteen back, and I only have the full rink for an hour.”

Victor tilted his head. “Yeah, I should probably get going-“

“Even if you do, that’s only half of my full rink time today, Victor!” Yuuri replied angrily. “You’re getting two hours today, because Yakov controls the schedule, and I’ll get, at best, half an hour! I didn’t get any rink time at all yesterday because Yakov gave Yurio two hours and I had dance class with Madame Lilia for the afternoon!” Victor had the decency to finally stop smiling that stupid smile at least.

“I’m aware how much rink time you get, Yuuri, I am your coach, after all,” he said flatly, and the lack of reaction just made Yuuri more frustrated.

Yurio walked over to them. “Oi! Piggy! What’s the problem?”

“Fuck off, Yuri, this doesn’t concern you!” Yuuri snapped at him, raising his voice loud enough that it caught the attention of Mila and, beyond them both, of Yakov who was standing at the door to the sound booth.

Yurio looked positively shocked, probably because Yuuri had never yelled in front of him. “What the fuck?” he asked in confusion, eyebrows raised. Yuuri also never called him ‘Yuri’.

Victor sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. “It’s nothing, Yura, Go back to stretching.”

“Why are you two not on the ice?” he asked, and Yuuri turned to him with a dark look that had even Yurio’s eyes widening a bit. “Never mind,” he said, turning to walk away.

Victor tutted. “Yuuri, I’m sorry, you know how I am, I’m a forgetful man. You knew that when you married me-“

“But you’re also my _coach_!” Yuuri complained. “You remember that, right? There’s forgetting to take out the garbage and then forgetting, as both husband and coach, that _you_ told me not to bother packing up my skates, that you would bring them with you.” He held his arms out. “Do you even have _your_ skates? Were you going to coach me from outside the rink?”

Victor looked suitably guilty and ducked his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, and Yuuri turned away, snatching his coffee up off the bench. 

“I’m going to the gym. Find me when you get back with my skates. We’ll have to just train in one of the little practice rinks,” he said as he stalked off. 

As he passed Yakov on his way around the rink, Yakov grunted. “Could you and your husband try not to have a lovers’ spat at the rink-“

“You’re divorced, so stay out of my marriage,” Yuuri snapped, only to stop in his tracks just as Yakov did. He turned to Yakov with horror at what he had just said and who he said it to, but much to his surprise, Yakov actually barked out a laugh.

“No wonder Victor likes you,” he said simply, continuing on his way, laughing to himself. 

Yuuri spent what should’ve been his allotted rink time in the gym until his anger faded and he worked out enough of his frustration that, when Victor did show up with his skates and promised to use half of his rink time training Yuuri, no matter what Yakov said, Yuuri finally let him off the hook.

He also decided to never trust Victor to bring his skates to him ever again. 

 

3\. 

Yuuri had noticed as soon as he met Victor – personally, in Hatsetsu – that Victor liked to drink. Victor _really_ drank a lot. He remembered the time he and Yurio had to wait for Victor to get to the rink after a night of drinking, and that wasn’t the only time that happened to him after Yurio had gone. It wasn’t a serious problem, it wasn’t like Victor as an alcoholic, so Yuuri didn’t think much of it most of the time.

However, now that Victor was also skating, it became a problem when he did go drinking, because it was now Yuuri who had to answer for his husband’s behavior when he went out drinking.

“Yuuri!” Yuuri was startled out of where he was stretching with Yurio by Yakov’s bellow. 

“Which one?” Yurio shouted back, only to have the answer when Yakov came out of his office with his phone in his hand and a scowl.

“The one of you with a husband who didn’t show up for his morning practice,” Yakov said, and Yuuri groaned, flopping forward between his stretched legs to lay on the floor. “Where is Victor?”

Yuuri muttered his answer into the floor and Yurio tilted his head at him before relaying the message to Yakov. “Yuuri says he’s probably skipping cause he’s hungover.” Yuuri mumbled some more and Yurio snickered. “Christophe Giacometti took a vacation to St. Petersburg for his birthday and he and Victor are both asleep at Yuuri’s place.”

Yakov made a spluttering sound. “Victor should know better than to do that when he’s in training! And you!” Yuuri picked his head up, frowning as Yakov gave him a strange look. “You let your husband go out _drinking_ with Giacometti?”

Yurio snorted. “They probably had a threesome, those perverts,” he said, and Yuuri flushed, eyes wide.

“I- that- _what_?!” He shook his hands. “No, no, no, Victor didn’t sleep with Chris and neither have I! Chris is my friend, he wouldn’t try to seduce my husband!” 

Yurio smirked. “That’s what you think.”

Yakov nodded. “I sure wouldn’t have let him go out with that boy.”

“Look, who my husband goes out with is not my concern,” Yuuri said plainly. “I wouldn’t be married to him if I thought he’d cheat on me with anybody, nonetheless _Chris_.” He looked up at Yakov. “As for his drinking, it looks like he isn’t showing up to train me, either,” he said with an annoyed huff. “You had one skater not show up for training I had my _only_ coach not show up.”

He thought that would be the end of it, but instead, Yakov stared at him for a little while before sighing. “Come get me if he hasn’t shown up by the time you take the ice,” he said begrudgingly. Yuuri frowned in confusion and Yakov jerked his head towards the ice. “I’m not letting my training club reputation go bad if you fuck up because Victor’s a moron. I’ll help you work on your jumps until he shows up,” he said, turning to head back to his office. “You had to marry an idiot that gets drunk while he’s in training, so it’s your fault as much as his.”

Yuuri huffed but didn’t retort back since Yakov had offered to help him train. He needed it since his coach was sleeping off a hangover instead of training him.

 

4.

Most people wouldn’t have nearly as much trouble with Yuuri’s latest problem with Victor, especially compared to forgetfulness, drinking to the point of irresponsibility, and neglectful coaching duties, but it was a _serious_ issue.

Victor kicked off the covers while they slept. 

Every single night, Yuuri woke up _freezing_ because Russia in the winter was _cold_ and even in their house with the heat on it was cold, and even though Makkachin slept near their feet, he left at some point in the night, so by the time Yuuri woke up at three in the morning with no covers and Victor on his side of the bed, it was _so damn cold_. Before they moved to Victor’s apartment, they slept in a small bed so they had to cuddle up and Victor didn’t move enough to toss the covers off. That was Yuuri’s leading theory, anyway. When they got to Victor’s apartment with his giant, king-sized bed, especially after their ‘honeymoon phase’ ended and they didn’t have sex almost every single night and fall asleep naked and curled together, they slept on their own sides of the bed. 

And while sleeping on their own sides of the bed, Victor moved in his sleep more. It didn’t wake Yuuri up, but he did wake up after Victor’s moving around involved tossing all the covers down to the foot of the bed, leaving both of them exposed to the cold air of the room. Victor seemed unbothered by that, but Yuuri woke up every single night and even after he pulled the covers back up, he wouldn’t even manage to fall completely back asleep before Victor tossed the covers off _again_.

It wasn’t a problem the nights they slept snuggled up together, because Victor was very warm, and Yuuri didn’t wake up in the night, but every night that one of them went to bed earlier than the other or they migrated apart in their sleep, it was a serious issue for Yuuri.

It started to be a real issue when it started affecting his skating.

“Yuuri? YUURI!” Yuuri startled awake, looking around in confusion as he saw Yurio crouched in front of him looking at him funny. He felt a weight on his back and tried to sit up, only to find he couldn’t

“Huh?” he muttered, turning to look over his shoulder, only to frown when he Victor stood up and the weight left his back. He sat up and looked around and realized, with utter humiliation, that he had _fallen asleep_ while stretching. Victor had been helping push him down over his stretched legs and he had fallen asleep. “Oh God,” he muttered, putting both hands over his face.

“You were snoring, Piggy,” Yurio said and Yuuri peeked out to see him stand up again.

“You should be sleeping more,” Mila commented as she stepped off the ice. “Yakov would have my neck if I fell asleep at training.”

Victor tutted. “He _does_ sleep,” he said, then walked around to stand in front of Yuuri. “What’s wrong, _Zolotse_?” he asked with a worried frown.

Yurio made a dramatic face of disgust. “You call him _Zolotse_? Ew, you old fart.”

“Hush, Yura, it’s sweet,” Victor argued, then crouched down in front of Yuuri, who still sat on the floor. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a softer tone.

Yuuri couldn’t help but snort. “You are,” he said, slowly getting to his feet. “I haven’t slept in the past week more than a few hours each night and it’s your fault.”

Mila burst into giggles and Yurio’s eyes widened in horror as his jaw dropped. “Oh _God_ , SOMEONE KILL ME!” he shouted dramatically, flinging an arm out towards Mila. “CUT IT WITH THE SKATE!”

“What-“ Yuuri flushed bright red. “No, no, no!” he said, holding his hands out, shaking them. “I wasn’t talking about sex!”

Yurio deflated. “Oh thank God,” he said, dropping his arm down again. “I almost had to kill myself.”

“I don’t understand,” Victor said, frowning at Yuuri. “What’s wrong? Do I snore?” he asked, making a face.

Yuuri sighed and gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I tried to not make a big deal out of it, but you kick the covers off.” 

Victor frowned. “I what?”

“You kick them off!” Yuuri said more firmly. “I wake up every night, freezing to death, because you kick off the covers, and if I pull them back up, you knock them off again! It’s driving me crazy! I can’t sleep! It happens _every night_! I just get up most nights and try to get my day started. That’s why I’m always up before you.”

Victor tilted his head in confusion. “But it’s not every night. I wake up with you still in bed a lot of the time.”

“Yeah, because the nights we fall asleep naked you cuddle with me all night,” Yuuri said simply, and when Yurio gave him an utterly betrayed look of horror, he blushed again.

Yurio spluttered. “I’m a child!”

“Yura, you’re sixteen-“

“A. Child!” Yurio gritted out.

“I had already touched boobs at your age-“

Yurio made a whine of horror, covering his ears at Victor’s words. “I’M A LITTLE BOY STOP TALKING ABOUT SEX, YOU WHORE!”

Yuuri had to roll his eyes at that one, tutting. “Oh come on, we’re married, I’m fairly certain that having sex with me doesn’t make him a whore,” he defended. “Stop being so dramatic.”

Mila giggled. “Sounds like the real answer is having more sex,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at Yuuri. “If he doesn’t kick off the covers when he falls asleep naked, you should just seduce him every night so you can actually sleep.” 

“That sounds exhausting,” Victor said with a wistful sigh. “Amazing, but exhausting.”

Yuuri tutted. “Yeah, because _somebody_ gets long nights sleeps when we go to bed in pajamas.”

Victor smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, Yuuri. Just kick me out of bed next time.” He reached out and tugged at Yuuri’s hand until he stepped into Victor’s space. He pecked his forehead. “If I sleep that hard, I’ll stay asleep on the floor, too.” 

He didn’t think Victor was being serious, but after another night of Yuuri waking up and getting frustrated, he shoved at Victor, trying to wake him up, only he accidently pushed too hard and Victor rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a thud. Yuuri gasped and scrambled across the bed, looking down at him worriedly, only for Victor to give a sleepy mumble and roll over, tugging the pillow that had fallen with him under his head again before falling deeply asleep again.

Yuuri watched him worriedly for a moment, but when he seemed totally fine, he shook his head and rolled back to his side of the bed, graciously tugging the covers up around his chin with a happy sigh. He slept well, that night. 

 

5\. 

Of all the things that sucked occasionally about being married to Victor, the worst wasn’t even something that was Victor’s fault. Victor had nothing at all to do with the way that people looked at him, or the way people whispered about him behind their hands. He wasn’t sure if Victor was ignorant to it all or if he just chose to not react, but Yuuri hated the way it made him feel, especially when he secretly feared they were right. 

Yuuri arrived at the rink one night, Victor having booked the rink after closing so they could really practice Yuuri’s routine in the days leading up to the Four Continents, and some of the doubles skaters – he didn’t know if they were pairs or ice dance – who trained with another coach for the Russian team were leaving. “Can you believe Victor came back?” the woman asked, and Yuuri stopped, shrinking back into the doorway of the hallway to the public bathrooms and waited on them to pass, knowing what they were going to comment on. 

However, they stopped in the lobby, probably putting on hats and gloves and coats. “I mean, do you really find it that hard to believe? He married that guy, clearly he’s lost his mind.”

Their laughter made Yuuri duck his head, biting his lip. It was nothing he hadn’t heard before. Everyone said it at some point. From sports commentators to the checkout girl at the café. They saw Victor and him together and just thought Victor had to be crazy and out of his mind to marry Yuuri. Plain, fat, boring, average Yuuri. Not that great of a skater. Not handsome. Not even a fellow Russian. Everybody thought Victor should’ve ended up with someone else on the Russian team if he was going to marry a skater, not some random guy from Japan. Yuuri almost wished he hadn’t learned Russian so fast. He was by no means fluent, but even he could understand what they were saying about him.

“I would understand if he was sexy like that Swiss skater that Victor is friends with. But that Yuuri Katsuki guy is just… plain. Hell, Georgi is more attractive than him,” the woman said and Yuuri bit his lip, because he knew it was true. “The only reason anybody knows who Yuuri Katsuki is is because Victor coached him and he got lucky with the Grand Prix Finals. He’s younger than Victor and even then, I’m sure Victor will skate longer than him.”

“I don’t know,” the man said. “He is sacrificing his free time to coach his husband, so his own skating won’t be up to par. You saw him at Europeans, he struggled to even make the podium. He _lost_ to Plisetsky. You know it’s that husband’s fault.”

Yuuri did know that. He knew, deep down, that it was entirely his fault. Victor may have needed Yuuri to find his love of skating again, but he held Victor back from really being a champion. He distracted him with his own training and with their life. He always thought, if he really admitted it deep down, that he should’ve tried to find a new coach. Celestino wouldn’t want him back, but there were other coaches. Victor wasn’t even a particularly great coach, he mostly just inspired Yuuri to try new things, he didn’t do a great job teaching him how to do them.

“I’m just saying, it’ll be funny if Victor fails miserably because of a husband who is so far below Victor he shouldn’t even be breathing the same air.” They both laughed and Yuuri heard the doors open as they headed out into the night. He waited a moment more to be sure they were gone before he came out of his hiding space and walked through to the rink.

He knew they were right. He always tried to ignore it, but it was true. He wasn’t good enough for Victor, Victor wasn’t doing as well as he could be because of Yuuri, and he wasn’t handsome like Victor was. 

“Yuuri? What’s wrong, _Zolotse_?” Victor asked, and Yuuri looked up, seeing that Victor was finishing up putting on his skates already. “You look upset.” The concern and fierce protectiveness that showed in Victor’s eyes was enough to remind Yuuri of the most important thing of all.

Victor chose him. He _chose_ him. It didn’t matter that Yuuri wasn’t worthy, because he was the one that Victor wanted. Yuuri often wondered _why_ , but he never doubted that Victor loved him. Victor loved him in a way Yuuri wasn’t sure he would ever understand beyond his own love for Victor. Yuuri didn’t have to understand why Victor chose him, why he didn’t agree with all the others, because the bottom line was that Victor did think he was good enough, and he did think Yuuri was worth the sacrifice to his own training, and he did think that Yuuri was attractive enough to be his husband.

So instead of telling him what really happened, Yuuri just shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong.” He walked over and kissed the top of Victor’s head as he circled to sit beside him and dig out his own skates. “You’re just a worry-wart,” he teased and Victor gave a relieved smile.

“Well, in that case, let’s hurry onto the ice. Time to get you ready for your big competition!” he said excitedly and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back at him.

 

+1. 

The one thing that Yuuri _never_ got tired of was waking up in the morning and seeing Victor beside him. Sure, he got sort of pissed about waking up and seeing Victor had kicked off the covers, but on a good day, one they got to sleep in and the sun was actually up when Yuuri woke, there was nothing more perfect than opening his eyes and seeing beautiful silver hair, pale skin, and that beautiful man’s face on the pillow opposite him. 

Sometimes, Yuuri felt like his heart would burst with how much love he felt for Victor. He was not a perfect man, and he was definitely not a perfect husband, but he was _Yuuri’s_ husband. Every day, Yuuri woke up and felt like he had hit the jackpot, because the man across from him, the one wearing a matching golden ring to the one on Yuuri’s hand, was _Yuuri’s husband_. Yuuri didn’t even care anymore that he was Victor Nikiforov, the childhood hero Yuuri had dreamed of being. These days, when he got little rushes of hero-worship, it wasn’t the distant star of the past that he felt it for, but of the one who left his dirty dishes on the counter instead of in the sink. He still felt hero-worship towards Victor sometimes, but it was because Victor was still his competitor and, no matter what, he was still the top figure skater in the world. 

Only now Yuuri’s ‘hero’ was his husband, not an untouchable celebrity. Yuuri didn’t need posters on his wall, he had photos on his phone that would never be shared with the world because it was Victor with bedhead groggily shuffling into the kitchen, or Victor on the floor defeated and soaking wet after trying to bathe Makkachin, or Victor dancing around the living room listening to music.

Or Victor asleep on the pillow next to him, the morning sun making his skin glow and his hair cast shadows on his face. Yuuri had about a dozen photos of Victor asleep (and he knew Victor had just as many of him) just because some nights he and Victor couldn’t go to sleep together, and so early in their marriage as they were, it felt lonely to not look at his husband when he got in bed.

Right now, though, the Victor sleeping he was looking at was really there, not on a phone screen, and Yuuri smiled at the unbearable happiness that gave him. He scooted across the gap and ran his fingers through Victor’s hair, brushing his bangs from his face. Victor murmured and rolled onto his back, leaving just enough room for Yuuri to roll over and put his arm around Victor, laying his cheek on Victor’s chest. He smiled as he stroked at his side and the soft tee-shirt that covered his ribs. “Wake up, Victor.” He prodded his ribs teasingly, trying to tickle him awake.

Victor whined and squirmed in his sleep some, head flopping over. “Nnnnn,” he muttered, and Yuuri smiled, shifting to look up at his face. His bottom lip poked out and Yuuri couldn’t help but rise up and press a sweet little kiss to his pouty lips. “Mmmm,” Victor mumbled in sleepy confusion.

“It’s morning, Vicchan,” Yuuri purred. Victor sleepily swatted at the hand tickling his ribs and Yuuri got a better idea as he reached down and slid his hand up Victor’s shirt. “Victooooor,” he sing-songed, scraping his nails lightly down Victor’s belly until he got to the waist of his pajamas. He tiptoed his fingers to the line of hair leading down into Victor’s pants, ghosting his fingertips across his sensitive skin. Victor shivered and rolled into Yuuri, making Yuuri shift to accommodate Victor’s arm being flung across him. He leaned in and kissed Victor’s jaw, trailing kisses up to his ear. “Mmmm, wake up, Vicchan.”

“Yuuri, it’s early,” Victor moaned sleepily and Yuuri smiled as he finally had him at least somewhat awake.

“It’s actually later than usual,” Yuuri corrected, kissing across his cheekbone. Victor scrunched his nose and Yuuri grinned before pecking the tip of his nose. “Mmmm, wake up and cuddle with me,” he whined, grabbing Victor’s hand to place it on his ass.

Victor made an interested hum and squeezed appreciatively. “You make a compelling argument," he mumbled, sighing as he fondled Yuuri’s perky butt. “Man, you have such a nice butt,” Victor mumbled tiredly and Yuuri giggled, kissing his cheek again.

“We’re figure skaters, Victor, we all have really nice butts,” Yuuri teased, kissing his cheek. He wrapped his leg over Victor’s hip, brushing his calf against Victor’s firm backside. He laid his head on Victor’s chest, snuggling into him. “Mmmmm, I love you, Vicchan.”

Victor chuckled, his voice warm and a bit rough with sleep, and he curled both arms around Yuuri’s body. “I love you too, _Zolotse_. More than anything.”

Yuuri had a thought and hummed, closing his eyes as he nuzzled into Victor’s shirt. “Why do you call me that?” he asked tiredly.

“What, _Zolotse_?” Victor asked, and Yuuri nodded.

He had often wondered that, honestly. “It means ‘my gold’ doesn’t it?” Yuuri asked. “But why call me that?”

A warm chuckled vibrated through Victor’s body and Yuuri felt a hand on his wrist. He pulled back some and watched as Victor pulled his right hand up to his lips and kissed his wedding ring with a twinkle in his beautiful blue eyes. “Because out of everything ‘gold’ I’ve ever had, you gave me the most important one. You’re my best reward, Yuuri. Marrying you is the best win I ever made.” Victor brushed Yuuri’s hair from his eyes with a loving look that made Yuuri’s heart swell. “The most important title I’ve ever been awarded is Katsuki Yuuri’s Husband. You’re the most precious ‘gold’ I’ve ever won.” His lips quirked and he kissed his fingers again. “ _Zolotse_.”

As he hugged Victor close, squeezing him so tightly he worried he might not be able to breathe, Yuuri thought about all the bad things that came with being married with Victor. All of Victor’s annoying habits, all the shit he had to put up with because of Victor’s behavior, and all the degrading talk he had to face as the man who married Victor Nikiforov. Yuuri thought about every single downside to being married to Victor, and he knew without a doubt that not a single one of them, nor all of them combined, could ever compete with this moment.

Lying in his husband’s arms, having a sleepy lie-in, being happy and warm and at peace with the man he loved more than anything he ever knew was possible was worth a million times worse habits, worse insults, and worse arguments. This was perfection, and this was all that really mattered to Yuuri.


End file.
